


With Love On Our Wings

by pleasekalemenow



Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Anal Play, Anal Sex, Aziraphale Can't Communicate, Aziraphale Has a Penis (Good Omens), Aziraphale Loves Crowley (Good Omens), Aziraphale is Not Innocent (Good Omens), Blow Jobs, Boys In Love, Crowley Has a Penis (Good Omens), Crowley Has a Praise Kink (Good Omens), Crowley Loves Aziraphale (Good Omens), Crowley Loves his Houseplants (Good Omens), Crowley knows flowers, First Time, First Time Blow Jobs, Footnotes, For a Friend, God Ships Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens), How Do I Tag, I can't believe I tagged that, I'm Bad At Summaries, Idiots in Love, M/M, Making Love, Making Out, Making an Effort (Good Omens), No Betas We Fall Like Crowley, Other, POV God (Good Omens), Porn with Feelings, Rough Sex, Sex, Slutty Aziraphale, Switch Aziraphale (Good Omens), Switch Crowley (Good Omens), Virgin Crowley (Good Omens), approximately 30 seconds of angst, but neither can Crowley, it's just that I have a lot of footnotes lmao, just horny winged men, mark my fucking worms, next fic I write is shameless smut and you can quote me on that, no horny wings in this one btw, probably says something about me lmao, the fact that I tagged rough sex and making love for the same scene, the fact that that isn't a tag but slutty crowley is is a crime, this fic is about twice as long as the word count suggests, whose wings are...not present, yuck - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-29
Updated: 2019-09-01
Packaged: 2020-09-29 21:49:14
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 7,346
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20443088
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pleasekalemenow/pseuds/pleasekalemenow
Summary: (or, "Crowley Realizes Aziraphale Has Asked Him On A Date While On The Date In Question;" or, perhaps more accurately, "Aziraphale Forgets to Indicate That He Is Asking Crowley On A Date")Crowley hung up, and Aziraphale was left grinning giddily at the receiver. He’d done it! He’d finally done it! He’d asked Crowley on a proper date! Busily, he set about planning the event. Surely, after waiting six thousand years to be together, their first date had to be an event.---Crowley couldn't help but feel that he'd missed something important.Title is from Dan Fogelberg's "Longer."





	1. Chapter 1

Three months after the world didn'tend, Aziraphale finally let go of a breath that he didn’t need to hold, and that he _ certainly _ didn’t realize he was holding.

Of course, after Armageddidn’t, he and Crowley had been cautious. Almost infuriatingly so, at times. They had won, in a very real way, after all. Shouldn’t they be able to enjoy themselves and the world that continued to turn beneath their feet? Aziraphale voiced this feeling one evening over a bottle of 1955 Cabernet Sauvignon.

“M’just…” He wet his lips deliberately, his feelings strangely hard to articulate in the moment. His voice came out slowly and stilted, but he couldn’t find it in himself to care. “I just feel that with everything we did, we shouldn’t have to just…” He trailed off, gesturing vaguely as the words eluded him.

Crowley, for his part, merely raised his eyebrows at Aziraphale’s struggle. He was draped over the couch like a throw blanket, taking up so much space that his calf was half-pressed against Aziraphale’s thigh. This seemed like a crucial detail to Aziraphale, but Crowley hardly seemed to notice--he just stared at his angel, arching his eyebrows absurdly high, as Aziraphale continued to gesticulate unhelpfully. Crowley rarely wore his glasses these days, when it was just the two of them, and Aziraphale couldn’t help but note how lovely it was to see his eyes when they weren’t--

“Hidden!” slurred Aziraphale. “Shouldn’t--we shouldn’t have to _ hide _ like this.”

Crowley leaned his head back against the couch in a way that almost felt like a shake of the head. “Now, we’re hardly _ hiding _ , angel.” His head went slightly upright, although it was still a bit cocked as he brought up his overfull glass to gesture with. “Heaven ‘n’ hell know ‘xactly where we are. Not like we’re keeping anything _ secret _ .” _ Not anymore _ went unspoken.

“But we’re not--” He pursed his lips. “We’re not doing anything _ different _.” Crowley went a bit stiff beside him, but he didn’t notice. “We’re acting ide-iden- just the same as when we were working for opposite sides.” Aziraphale sighed, having finished his rant and yet feeling unresolved.

Crowley was quiet for a moment. “D’you want things to be...different?” His eyes as he looked at Aziraphale were filled with startling sincerity, and a sort of vulnerability that Aziraphale was _ far _ too drunk to identify.

“Of--of course not!” he stammered. “I mean, we get to see each other_ much _ more frequently now, and we do have such a _ lovely _ time, together, s’just that…” He paused as words swam in his mind. “I just thought, maybe, since the rest of the world is sort of _ changed _, that…” Maybe he should have sobered up, in retrospect, but he thought he might have had an even harder time expressing himself without the aid of alcohol in that moment. “Some sort of change would be expected of us.”

Crowley stared at him, and in that moment Crowley might as well have been wearing his sunglasses for all his expression was readable. Softly, he said, “We never have to change if you don’t want to, angel.”

The subject changed somehow, but as Crowley rambled about something or other, Aziraphale couldn’t help but feel that, perhaps, he’d missed a precious opportunity.

At a later date, he reflected on that night and realized: he _ did _ want things to change. Of course, he’d be happy for things to stay the same with them--what he’d said about having a lovely time with Crowley was true, after all--but if he could have something else...if he could have something _ more _ …he wanted that. Had for quite some time, now. Of course, Crowley seemed a bit stressed by the idea of Aziraphale wanting more from him, and there was still the matter of keeping their guard up in case their old sides came after them again, but three months after the world didn’t end, the former Principality decided he’d had enough patience for at _ least _ 150,000 lifetimes.[1]

Which is why, hands trembling, he dialed Crowley number on his rotary phone one Thursday evening. It kept ringing until it went through to voicemail, as always.

He smiled as if the demon could see him. “Crowley, my dear, I do hope you’re doing well. I was wondering what your plans are for tomorrow evening? You see, I’ve heard that a lovely--”

When he heard Crowley pick up the phone, his smile widened. “Hello, dear.”

“Hey, angel. I haven’t got anything on tomorrow.[2] What did you have in mind?”

“Well, I heard that a new modern Korean restaurant has opened over in Soho, and I _ do _ know how you go in for modern cuisine, so I thought you might like to try it together.”

“Sure, sounds like a time. When’d you like to meet?” Crowley’s voice came quickly and easily, and Aziraphale wasn’t quite certain he was fully understanding what the angel meant to be asking.

“Does six sound alright?”

A noncommittal noise came through the receiver. “Bit early.”

Aziraphale swallowed thoughtlessly. “Yes! Well! I thought we might walk there, rather than taking the Bentley. Enjoy the evening and each other’s company.”

“Want to be spared my driving, do you?” Crowley chuckled a bit, and Aziraphale’s heart melted. “That’s fine, angel. My place or yours?”

“What’s that?[3]”

“To meet at before heading over. You did say you wanted to walk together, didn’t you?”

_ Head out of the gutter, you old fool. _ “Of course, right! Er, let’s do yours.[4] ” He paused, certain that he should be saying something else but unsure of what else remained to be said.[5] “So, I’ll see you then, I suppose?”

“See you.”

Crowley hung up, and Aziraphale was left grinning giddily at the receiver. He’d done it! He’d _ finally _ done it! He’d asked Crowley on a proper date! Busily, he set about planning the event. Surely, after waiting six thousand years to be together, their first date had to be an _ event. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1That this happened to be the number of generations there had been since the Beginning, Aziraphale would insist, was a coincidence. [return to text]  
2 This was both true and untrue: he hadn’t made other plans, but seeing as they’d been meeting on Fridays for dinner nearly every week since the Nah-pocalypse, he’d rather assumed they had plans. [return to text]  
3The reason behind Aziraphale’s initial confusion might be that, at that moment, he was not, in fact, thinking about the meal they would be sharing together. [return to text]  
4He wanted to ensure that the plant he brought--a courting ritual he’d been on the receiving end of plenty of times through the ages--would be able to be tended to in Crowley’s particular way as soon as possible, if that sort of thing mattered to him. (It did.) [return to text]  
5In retrospect, he’d note that something along the lines of “This is a romantic date” would’ve done nicely. [return to text]


	2. Chapter 2

Crowley couldn’t help but feel that he’d missed something important.

When he opened his door on Friday evening at 5:55 PM, Aziraphale was standing there, holding a living arrangement of flowers--Astilbe, Baby’s Breath, and Daffodils,[1] and dressed like…

“What  _ are _ you wearing?” Crowley asked, his confusion manifesting as an edge in his voice that he hoped didn’t come off too harshly.

Aziraphale looked down at the apparently-offending outfit: ironed brown slacks, a dark blue vest, a light blue button-up, a crisp white jacket, and, to Crowley’s  _ particular _ dismay, a solid dark blue tie. “You don’t like it?”

“I didn’t say--do  _ you _ like it?” Crowley searched the angel’s eyes, which seemed disarmingly insecure. “Not a lick of tartan anywhere.”

Aziraphale looked down at the flower pot he still held in his hands, a flush creeping up his neck. “It seemed  _ modern _ . I thought…” He trailed off, and Crowley remembered the conversation about  _ changing _ . Something clicked in his mind[2] and he gave Aziraphale what he hoped was a heartfelt smile.

“You look great, angel.” This was true, of course, but Aziraphale hadn’t been one to dress for the century in which he was living since the invention of the Internet. “What’s with the flowers?’

“They’re for you.” Aziraphale’s gaze returned to him, along with a smile so radiant he wanted to get on his knees in worship.[3] “I thought about getting you a bouquet, but then--I do know how you love to care for[4] your plants.”

Crowley paused, considering his words carefully. “What’re you bringing me a bouquet for?”

There was a glimmer in the angel’s eyes that thrilled him to the core. “It’s a special occasion.” 

Well, now Crowley was  _ sure _ he’d forgotten something. Luckily, his stunned silence must have motivated Aziraphale to elaborate. He smiled shyly. “We’re not hiding anymore.”

Crowley was glad that he’d worn his glasses to open the door, although they did very little to conceal his blush. “Right. Well.” He cleared his throat. “Shall we?”

Aziraphale chuckled at him. “Crowley, darling, don’t you want to take this in first?” He held out the plant that Crowley, the fool,  _ still _ hadn’t taken from him.

“Oh, right, of course.” He quickly took the plant, wondering when the heaven he’d become such a bloody idiot.[5] He turned to go into the apartment, but at the last moment, thought to say, “Would you like to step inside for a moment?”

Aziraphale nodded, smiling primly. Crowley held the door for him as he stepped in, then took the bright pot of flowers back towards his little Garden. 

“Just make yourself comfortable,” Crowley called over his shoulder. Aziraphale didn’t respond beyond a slight hum.[6] He immediately noted how sharply the flowers contrasted the rest of his plants--they hadn’t grown perfectly, first of all, but aside from that, their colors stood out, soft and comforting against the vibrant greens of his prized ficuses. They shouldn’t have seemed so at home, and yet…

“Be  _ nice _ ,” he hissed at his older plants, before brushing the petals of a lily with great affection. He brought his lips up to the baby’s breath and, soft as down, whispered, “You’re  _ beautiful.[7] _ ”

Then, he hurried out to the main room, where he found Aziraphale gazing thoughtfully down a hallway.

“Alright, ready to go, angel?”

Aziraphale hummed. “You know, I don’t think I gave that statue much notice when I was last here.[8] ” Crowley followed his gaze, although he didn’t need to look to know what statue he was referencing. 

“Oh, that old thing?” Thank Somebody that Crowley had millenia of experience acting casual.[9] “Picked it up a while back. S’posed to represent evil’s triumph over good.”

“Ah.” Aziraphale smirked conspiratorially. “Would you say it’s aspirational, then?”

Crowley cleared his throat lightly. “Well, I don’t particularly care whether good or evil...triumphs, these days.”

Aziraphale’s smirk widened, his tongue flitting over his lips in a way that was positively  _ sinful _ as he turned away from Crowley to face the door. “That’s good. Because, in my experience, good always triumphs in the end.[10] ”

Crowley’s mouth felt quite dry, and he resolved to keep his glasses on for the entirety of this...whatever this was. Dinner. It was just dinner.  _ For someone’s sake, get a grip. _ “Whatever you say, angel. You ready to go?”

“Crowley, dear, I would love to go.” Aziraphale turned back to face him, smiling tenderly, and extended an arm--clearly intending for Crowley to link arms with him. He did, of course, after shutting the door and miracling it locked behind them. He’d never been one to shun the angel’s whims, after all, especially ones that allowed him to get closer to him.

As they walked, Aziraphale, for once, didn’t seem to feel the need to fill the silence, and Crowley couldn’t think of anything other than how Aziraphale felt pressed against his side, so they walked in silence, save for the sound of their footsteps, traffic, birds, pedestrians--okay, so silence wasn’t the right word, but Crowley couldn’t help but notice Aziraphale sighing intermittently. He was almost afraid to ask, but he couldn’t help himself.

“Everything alright, there, angel?”

“Hm?” Aziraphale didn’t jump at his words, so he mustn’t have been too lost in thought. He turned his head to face Crowley, eyebrows raised, expression pleasant.

“...You’ve been sighing quite a lot.”

“Ah! Yes. Well, love, I suppose I’m just...happy.” His smile made his eyes all but disappear, and Crowley thought he might faint.

_ This evening is going to discorporate me. _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 These were said to represent, respectively: patience and dedication, everlasting love, and new beginnings. This wasn’t lost on Crowley, but as Aziraphale had never before expressed an interest in flower symbolism, he assumed this was unintentional. The more pressing issue was why he’d brought them in the first place. [return to text]  
2 Albeit, not the correct thing clicked, but such is the way of things. [return to text]  
3 There was a time when he knew Aziraphale would have shunned such obvious blasphemy, but Crowley was no longer certain how he would react. In lonely moments, he often imagined how it might go. [return to text]  
4 Crowley would ordinarily have protested this choice of words, but as it was, he was too baffled to interrupt, and Aziraphale was correct in his wording, anyway. [return to text]  
5 The most accurate answer to this question would be shortly after Adam and Eve left the Garden with a flaming sword he wrongly assumed I didn’t know about. [return to text]  
6 He was, at that moment, mentally beseeching Me to grant him favor to return to the apartment after dinner and a few drinks. The details of the prayer don’t bear repeating, as they weren’t what one would traditionally define as “coherent.” [return to text]  
7 This, of course, incited great envy from his other plants, but they were hardly about to go against his order to be nice. The consequences for cruelty, they were certain, would be dire. [return to text]  
8 This was likely due to the fact that, at the time, the two of them had been trying to figure out how to avoid extinction. [return to text]  
9 I feel it is important to note that a distinction should be made between experienced and skilled. [return to text]  
10 Had Crowley been able to see Aziraphale’s expression at this moment, it’s entirely possible that they would have missed their dinner reservation altogether. As it stood, Crowley couldn’t be certain of how the angel meant it, and assumed he was reading into things. [return to text]


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in case anyone's wondering, the reasons I'm uploading a bunch of short chapters instead of a few long ones are:  
1\. I need so much room for my footnotes lmao (this fic is longer than the word count would suggest bc of them, oof)  
2\. I know when I'm reading gomens fic at 3 AM and I tell myself "one more chapter" I'm pretty well fucked unless the chapters are short so. you're welcome ig

Aziraphale thought the evening was going rather well, thus far. Granted, Crowley hadn’t reacted _ spectacularly _ well to his new look[1] , and he’d seemed fairly surprised by seemingly _ everything _ Aziraphale had said and done thus far, but he didn’t seem to be having a _ bad _ time, at least.

Okay, so perhaps it wasn’t going well.

“Crowley, dear, have you decided what you’re ordering?”

“Hm? Oh. No, haven’t yet.” He went back to staring in the direction of the menu, and Aziraphale wished, not for the first time, that he could see his eyes.[2] It had been like this much of the evening thus far--they’d walked here in what _ Aziraphale _ thought was companionable silence--a change of pace from their usual incessant banter--but the longer they walked, the more Aziraphale grew concerned that, for Crowley, the silence might not have been as comfortable as it was for him. Yet, every attempt Aziraphale made to converse was met with a minimal response followed by stifling quiet. When he said he wanted a change, this is _ not _ what he had in mind.

He cleared his throat. “You know, Crowley, if you’d rather go somewhere else, we can. They’ll fill this table easily, and I’m sure a table will miraculously be free wherever you’d like to go.” Truth be told, he was looking forward to this meal--the Korean Tuna Croquettes, in particular, sounded scrumptious--but it was more important to him that Crowley was enjoying himself. “We don’t even have to eat if you’d rather not. I want you to enjoy yourself, too.”

A single eyebrow quirked up from behind the guard of Crowley’s sunglasses. “I’m fine right here, angel.” As if to prove it, he gave him a blink-and-you’ll-miss-it smile.

Aziraphale couldn’t stop his face from falling. “It just doesn’t seem like you’re having _ fun _. You’ve been dead quiet since we left your apartment.”

Crowley pursed his lips in seeming frustration.[3] “You’ve been quiet too, angel. ‘S nothing to worry about. I’m fine. I’m happy to be here.” His face, however, betrayed his stress. Aziraphale, naturally, put two and two together and came up with twenty-two.

“You know, Crowley,” he said, voice a mixture of hurt and frustration, “if you didn’t want to come you could have just said so.”

“Don’t be ridiculous, Aziraphale, ‘course I wanted to come. We do this every Friday. You _ know _ I wouldn’t keep coming if I didn’t like it.”

Aziraphale recoiled. “We don’t do this every Friday--six thousand years, and we’ve _ never _ done this before!”

“What are you talking about? We’ve gone to dinner practically every Friday for three months, and we’ve been eating together for--centuries!”

“Never as a _date!” _Aziraphale hissed.

Crowley’s face _ visibly _ processed a lot of emotions very quickly, and it occurred to Aziraphale for the first time that this was, perhaps, new information to the demon.

At that exact moment, the server came up to take their order, but Aziraphale saw them coming, and so they miraculously had the good sense to come back later.

“Crowley…?”

Crowley opened his mouth. Shut it. Opened it again. “This is a _date?[4] _ _ ” _

There were a lot of things, in retrospect, that Aziraphale thought he could have done better. “Well, erm. Yes--that is, I rather thought it was.”

Crowley’s eyebrows were threatening to disappear into his hairline. “Were you planning on letting me know this at some point?”

He swallowed. “Well, you see, I thought that I already had.”

Crowley shook his head in bewilderment. “What, precisely, about anything you said about tonight was supposed to lead me to believe that this was a romantic date where we were here together as more than friends?” His voice was growing hysterical, and Aziraphale’s stomach had fallen so far that it was sitting uncomfortably in his shoes.

“I could’ve sworn I said something about it--”

“You _ didn’t _.”

“--and we _ never _ plan this far in advance--”

“Oh, you put in our reservation a single day early for once rather than miracling us one the day of, how could I have missed it!”

“For _ Heaven’s sake, _ Crowley, I showed up in a _ modern suit _ with--”

“You said you wanted a change!”

“--with _ flowers _, Crowley!”

Crowley raked his hands through his hair.[5] Aziraphale thought he might be sick. “You’re always doing thoughtful shit like that! How was _ I _ supposed to know you meant it as a romantic gesture this time?”

“I _ always _ meant them as romantic gestures!” Aziraphale blurted before he could think better of it. _ Dear Lord. _ He was going to go try this “sleeping” Crowley was always raving about. He’d rather go a good while without being forced to think of this by his consciousness. He removed the napkin from his lap, standing hurriedly. “My mistake. Please _ do _ forgive me for misreading the situation--or for miscommunicating, or for _ whatever _ went wrong here.” He turned to leave, mortified, only to be stopped by Crowley grabbing his hand. He looked down, confused, to see Crowley clinging to him desperately.

“Please, don’t go.” His eyebrows were knit together in earnest, and from this angle the overhead lights shone through his lenses in a way that allowed Aziraphale a glimpse of his wide-open expression. “I didn’t--I’m not _ unhappy _ to be on a date with you.” When Aziraphale didn’t sit down right away, still studying his face, Crowley pleaded, “Please sit down, angel. Let’s talk about this. I’m surprised, but not--not _ bad _ surprised.[6]”

Aziraphale sat down, cautiously. “You’re not _ unpleasantly _ surprised.”

“Quite the opposite, angel.” Crowley gave a small smile that broke Aziraphale’s heart with its sincerity. Demons shouldn’t be able to smile like that, and yet…

“I’m sorry I didn’t...that it wasn’t _ clear _ that I was meaning to ask you on a date.”

Crowley ran a thumb over Aziraphale’s knuckles in a way that felt _ very _ deliberate. “Ah, s’fine. Not like I’m mad about it. Though if I were human, I’m quite certain you would’ve given me a stroke, telling me like that.”

Aziraphale flushed from embarrassment. “Honestly, Crowley, I don’t know how you rationalized me bringing you those flowers if you didn’t think this was a date.”

“Angel, I’ve been rationalizing your actions into things that don’t make me go insane for forever,” he said with a sigh. “This mean the symbolism of those flowers was intentional?”

“Quite. I really did try to think of you, you know.[7]” He looked down at the menu, although he’d decided on his order a good while ago.

“Angel.” Aziraphale looked up as he felt his hand squeezed lightly. “Did you really put on that dreadful outfit for _ my _ benefit?”

“_ Dreadful?” _ Aziraphale drew a hand to his chest, legitimately scandalized.[8]

“It’s not--” Crowley sighed. “The outfit is fine, it’s well-planned, I’d wear it if the colors were different, but that’s just the issue--it’s not _ you _, angel.”

Aziraphale opened and closed his mouth. “I just thought I’d...I don’t know.”

“Aziraphale.” Crowley removed his glasses, much to the angel’s shock. “I never want you to feel the need to change yourself for me. I’m _ happy _ with you.[9]”

He couldn’t help but tear up a little at that. “Really?” he asked, despite himself.

“Yes.” Crowley’s eyes were so beautiful, so full of emotion, that a few tears actually did spill over, although he hurriedly wiped them away.

“I’m--you must know, I’m...I’m so very happy with you, as well, Crowley, I--” He tried to continue speaking, but his throat closed around the words in his heart.

“Me too,” said Crowley, his face soft and understanding. If his eyes were glistening as well, Aziraphale certainly wasn’t going to be so rude as to point that out.

The server, at last, came by again, and asked for their orders. Aziraphale ordered the tuna croquettes, shrimp and linguine salad, two yogurt soju cocktails, and nokcha karu ice cream. Crowley ordered the same without an honest glance at the menu.

Taking in Aziraphale’s out-of-character outfit with his new context, Crowley shook his head, laughing.

“You really made quite the effort for me, didn’t you, Angel?” he said, voice full of fondness.

“Oh, darling,” Aziraphale said, in a voice so low that saying he _ purred _ wouldn’t be too much of a stretch. “You have _ no _ idea.”

Crowley choked on air he didn’t even need to breathe. He quite suddenly, and for no reason in particular, regretted ordering such a large meal, but he had a feeling that it would come out miraculously quickly.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 To be fair, Aziraphale didn’t care too much for his own outfit; he’d tried to imitate the style Crowley seemed to like, and he found that he greatly preferred it on the demon than on himself. [return to text]  
2 If Aziraphale had been able to see Crowley’s eyes in that moment, he would have seen the demon staring at him, taking him in as if he were a puzzle he was desperate to crack. [return to text]  
3 T In actuality, frustration was maybe the wrong word--”fear of making a confession in front of God and everybody” would be a more accurate way of putting it. [return to text]  
4 Crowley really meant for his voice to sound incredulous, but it had an edge of desperation that he definitely hadn’t put there intentionally. [return to text]  
5 At this point, Crowley was in very real danger of turning into a snake right here in the middle of this crowded restaurant from the overwhelming emotions of it all, which would be easy enough to miracle better, but which would be horrifically embarrassing. [return to text]  
6 As a matter of fact, it was taking all of Crowley’s quite substantial self-control to stop himself from pulling Aziraphale into a passionate kiss in the middle of the restaurant. Aziraphale didn’t strike him as an exhibitionist. [return to text]  
7 It was at this point that Crowley finally connected the dots: the suit, to Crowley’s taste; the flowers, in Crowley’s language; the restaurant, suited to Crowley’s preferences. It sparked an incredibly tender emotion in him which, for the first time, he did not feel the immediate need to suppress. [return to text]  
8 Under other circumstances, this might have been quite amusing. [return to text]  
9 That Crowley was this coherent was a miracle in and of itself--although, perhaps it wasn’t, considering he’d been waiting on Aziraphale’s cue for permission to make grand statements of love since an earlier conversation in Soho in 1967. [return to text]  



	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> welcome to my fic, where word count is made up and consistency doesn't matter!
> 
> lmao this chapter is as long as two chapters, it's all foreplay, and no genitals are touched until 1100 words in...can I get an F in the chat
> 
> anyway I earn the explicit tag starting here! thank you so much to everyone who's left kudos and commented--it really does make my day. if you want to make my heart do the smile emote, feel free to kudos/comment as well!
> 
> (really, y'all are wonderful. I love you. take care.)

Looking back on it, Crowley wouldn’t remember the conversation had on their first date--although, it’s not like that was out of the ordinary--but he knew that there were three things about it that he would remember.

  1. He was elated to be out with Aziraphale in a romantic capacity.
  2. The food was rather good.
  3. He was so desperate to leave and go back to one of their flats that he was actually considering prayer.

They elected to retire to Aziraphale’s flat, simply because it was there in Soho, and therefore, presented the quickest path to the bedroom.

It’s not even that either of them _ said _ that’s what they wanted to do, specifically; rather, it’s what they _ didn’t _ say. The needless brush of legs beneath the table; ice cream eaten in a manner that was _ highly _ inappropriate; gratuitous innuendo on the part of the angel, and equally gratuitous blushing on the part of the demon; by the end of the meal, Crowley’s heart, which didn’t even _ need _ to beat, was pounding like Crowley’s feet on the pedals of the Bentley. They walked back to A.Z. Fell & Co.’s Bookshop, hand in hand, easy conversation continuing as if there were more preventing Crowley from having a raging boner than the mere fact that he had yet to make the Effort. 

As Aziraphale opened the door for him, he placed a hand on the small of Crowley’s back. The point of contact was like a focus for his entire being, his essence reforming itself to revolve around the heavenly energy coming from the feel of his hand, not even touching his skin yet. _ Christ _, he thought, despite himself.

No sooner was he inside with the door shut than Aziraphale was damn near slamming him against it, lips desperate against his. He moaned wantonly--far louder than was warranted by the amount of contact they’d had--and leaned the back of his head against the glass. He gasped between deep kisses from the angel pressing a leg between his thighs.

“F-fuck. G--” He bit back a blaspheme, instead uttering a holier name to him. “_ Aziraphale _ .” It came out like a sob, and he would be mortified if he weren’t so bloody _ turned on _. 

“_ Crowley _ ,” Aziraphale groaned, surging forward to kiss the place where Crowley’s neck met his collarbone[1]

The Tempter swallowed repeatedly, trying and failing to pull himself together. For _ Someone’s _ sake, he was supposed to be a demon, and here he was, falling apart under Aziraphale’s sinfully skilled lips and his wandering hands, tugging his jacket off of his shoulders and undoing the buttons on his vest. He was going to lose control at this rate, and-- _ oh. _ Apparently he’d been serious about making the Effort.

“Fuck, are you hard already?” Crowley whimpered as the angel--_ his _ angel, hopefully--ground his hard cock against his leg through their trousers. Aziraphale bit his neck and he _ hissed _ , “_Angel _.”

“Yes, darling?” he murmured against his skin. 

“Sssslow _ down _ .” He gulped, and Aziraphale paused in the ministrations of his tongue, causing Crowley to whimper in both relief and desire. “ _ Please _.”

Aziraphale pulled back a bit, looking him in the eyes. “Oh, I’m sorry, my dear.” He smirked ever-so-slightly. “Am I going too _ fast _ for you?” His tone was teasing, but not cruel.

Crowley rolled his eyes, although it was lacking menace. “Oh, save it. I’ve waited so long for this, angel, can you blame me for wanting to savor the moment?” The words come out sounding more sincerely than he’d meant for them to, but Aziraphale gives him such a--caring gaze, that he can’t bring himself to be cross about it.

“No, dear, I suppose I can’t.” The next kiss was infinitely more tender, and Crowley couldn’t tell if this was actually less overwhelming or not. “You’ve been so _ patient _ , Crowley, my darling, you’ve given me so much time.” He kissed him again, tracing his hairline with his fingertips as Crowley clung to his lapels desperately. “I’ll give you whatever you need.” He swallowed the demon’s resultant whine with another soft kiss. He whispered against his lips, “Whatever you _ want _.”

Crowley could no longer help himself at that--a snap of his fingers and they were lying on Aziraphale’s bed, which looked about how you’d expect.[2] Aziraphale was positioned above him, staring down at him hungrily.

“I thought you said I was going too fast?” Aziraphale said, his tone somewhere between amused and sincere.

Too embarrassed to admit the truth, [3] Crowley simply nodded and said, “More comfortable here.”

Aziraphale hummed his assent, then leaned back down to kiss Crowley, his tongue gently probing as he cupped his cheek.

A shiver went down Crowley’s spine, and he swallowed before making an Effort. As predicted, it became hard almost instantly. “You’re rather good at this, you know.”

“Mm? That’s rather kind of you to say.” Aziraphale gazed down on him fondly, seemingly admiring his eyes before his gaze dropped down to his lips again, then his neck. “Do you mind if I kiss your neck, love?”

He sighed contentedly at the pet name. “Please.”

Aziraphale was only too happy to oblige. He trailed kisses down from the corner of his mouth to his collarbone, where he lingered, sucking and dragging his teeth along the sensitive skin he found there. Crowley drew in a shuddering gasp.

“G- Fuck, Aziraphale, have you done this before?”

He’s joking, but Aziraphale looks up at him, lips pressed to his skin, rather than simply laughing. Crowley’s mouth falls open. “You’re kidding.”

“Oh, come now, Crowley.” Aziraphale works his hand up his shirt, and _ heaven _ if that isn’t an excellent distraction tactic. “You know I’ve always had a taste for earthly pleasures.”

“How did I not know this?” He doesn’t mean to sound so incredulous--it comes off as _ jealous _, he knows, and he really has no right to be.

“I do believe you were unconscious at the time.” He tugged up on Crowley’s shirt, and he lifted his back obligingly without thinking about it.

“You waited until I was unconscious to have a snog?” He thought he sounded more teasing than jealous now.[4] “Angel, if you wanted someone to snog with, you could have just asked.”

Aziraphale looked up at him for a moment with an eyebrow raised, unimpressed. [5] Then, he circled Crowley’s nipple with his tongue, and any jealousy that may or may not have been present flew out the window.

“_ Aziraphale… _” Crowley let out a low groan that was wholly undignified.

“What is it, dear?” Aziraphale said coyly.

“_ Please. _”

“Please _ what _, dear?” Something about the way Aziraphale maintained his air of primness, even when Crowley could feel his cock throbbing against his leg, was horribly arousing. Not ten minutes before, the angel had been absolutely unhinged with desire. Now...Crowley couldn’t help but wonder what it might take to make his façade crack. It was all he could do just to moan--he wasn’t even sure what he was asking for.

“You’ll have to be more articulate, my darling.” Aziraphale looked at him innocently as he pulled a nipple between his teeth, making Crowley cry out. “Do be good for me, love, I know you’re _ so _ wonderful with words. Aren’t you, Crowley?”

He made a strained noise as Aziraphale cupped his dick through his trousers. “Inspired so many poems for you,” he confessed. “Songs. Hozier--the bastard’s never written an original lyric in his life.” He bit his lip painfully as Aziraphale’s thumb moved in a way that might have been comforting if done somewhere other than his crotch.

“Oh, Crowley, darling.” He planted a lingering kiss on his hip bone. “I should have known. Your words are just as beautiful as you are, my dear. I should have recognized them.” Another kiss, just below the belly button. Crowley thought he might discorporate on the spot. His cock was absolutely _ screaming _ for more from Aziraphale’s hand, still an insistent pressure against him, but Crowley seemed to have lost the words Aziraphale spoke so highly of. “I simply couldn’t imagine that you’d ever write such things about _ me. _”

“Only you,” Crowley moaned, and he meant more than just the poems and songs. “Only ever you, Aziraphale--never--oh,  _ fuck-- _ [6]”

“_ Crowley _…” Aziraphale hoisted himself up so he could kiss Crowley deeply. As he pulled away, the demon chased after his lips like plants chase the sun. “You mean to say you saved all this, just for me?” He squeezed Crowley’s cock, his hand wandering below his taint and around to his ass, still trapped by trousers. 

“Just you,” Crowley affirmed, moaning again. “_ Aziraphale--” _

Aziraphale, for his part, responded by tugging off Crowley’s trousers and underwear in one miraculously smooth motion. Crowley was now nude as he was in the Garden, while the angel before him was fully clothed. His hard cock, slim and lengthy, twitched with interest at the imbalance.

“Oh, _ Crowley _ .” Aziraphale looked at him with eyes that seemed to once again be toasting _ to the world _ , and his hands ran down Crowley’s ribs to rest on the handholds at his waist._[_7_]_ “You’re the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.[8]”

“Angel,” Crowley managed to say. ”If you don’t take your clothes off this very instant I think I’m going to discorporate.”

“Oh!” Aziraphale flushed slightly, almost seeming to have forgotten that little detail.[9] “Well, now, we can’t have that.” Despite the slow path he’d taken to undressing Crowley, with his own clothes, he merely snapped and suddenly there was a very nude Aziraphale straddling Crowley’s thighs. He whimpered at the sight.

“Angel…”

“Yes, dear?”

Crowley swallowed. “May I please worship you?”

Aziraphale paused[10] before smiling fondly. “Oh, my dear boy. He sat back on his haunches. “I thought you’d never ask.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 His neck was absolutely absurd, Aziraphale thought. The bob of Crowley’s throat as he swallowed in shock was so enthrallingly tempting that the angel wondered if it was thanks to Crowley that it was called an Adam’s Apple. [return to text]  
2 A plush white comforter with tartan throw pillows. Later, they’d have a conversation about finding a compromise between this and Crowley’s black satin, but for now there were more pressing issues. [return to text]  
3 The truth, in this instance, was that Crowley’s legs had quite forgotten that they were supposed to support his body, and had gone rather noodly. The decision to move this to bed was as motivated by logistical necessity as it was by desire to escalate the situation. [return to text]  
4 This was, of course, false. [return to text]  
5 There were a few grounds on which he could correct Crowley were he so inclined; firstly, he’d done much more than just snog; and secondly, kissing Crowley would have brought along a whole host of problems. A heavenly host, at that. However, he was not so inclined, and so he elected to end this conversation using alternative means. [return to text]  
6 You see, at this point, Aziraphale had decided to reward Crowley’s vulnerability with a firm squeeze of his cock, and had then proceeded to begin undoing his trousers. [return to text]  
7 In retrospect, it occurred to Crowley that perhaps it wasn’t truly the world Aziraphale had been toasting, after all. [return to text]  
8 Now, Crowley doubted that this was true, objectively--Aziraphale had been here since the Beginning, after all--but he certainly didn’t seem to think he was lying. Regardless, the praise had him swooning. [return to text]  
9 He hadn’t forgotten in the slightest. [return to text]  
10 This was mainly out of habit--by this point, I don’t think he was particularly worried about what I thought of his sex life or any blasphemy therein. [return to text]


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Well, this really was a blast to write! I'm definitely not done with these two, but for now--I hope you all enjoyed! Thank you so much to everyone who commented, and to all of the kudos this story has gotten. I love each and every one of you.
> 
> Come yell at me on tumblr @pleasekalemenow! Promise I don’t bite :)
> 
> Now, enjoy your pornography!

Despite the fact that Crowley had specifically asked Aziraphale to grant him permission to worship him, he didn’t seem certain of where to start once he  _ had  _ it.[1] Aziraphale was hardly about to complain, however. After all, there he was, straddling Crowley’s thighs, gazing down at his slender frame, his  _ breathtaking _ effort, his stunning eyes--there was nothing between them anymore; neither the hosts of heaven, nor the legions of hell; no reflective sunglasses, no clothing, no secrets--all had been discarded in favor of this intimacy, this intoxicating  _ togetherness _ .

Aziraphale ran a hand through Crowley’s hair, and the demon snapped out of his trance[2] at that, snaking a hand around his and bringing it up to his lips to press a kiss to the inside of the angel’s wrist. He let out a contented sort of sigh at the feeling of his lips.

“Crowley, my darling…”

Crowley hummed in response before sitting up slowly, Aziraphale still straddling him, and released his hand in favor of running his hands down the front of his torso. His grip settled on lush hips, and the former Principality shivered.

“Perfect,” growled Crowley, kissing his shoulder reverently. He pulled Aziraphale closer to him, forcing their cocks flush against each other in the process. Both entities gasped at that. “So--you’re so--” He sighed, words apparently insufficient, instead burying his face further in his skin, peppering him with kisses that went ever lower until he was toying with his nipple between his teeth, his back hunched, his hands reaching around to clutch Aziraphale’s arse.

“Wh-what was that, dear heart?” Aziraphale licked his lips as he balled his hands into fists over Crowley’s shoulders. He was trying not to claw at his back--he  _ really  _ was.[3] His cock was twitching desperately, occasionally getting some friction from sliding up against Crowley’s dick, but otherwise unattended thus far. It was all he could do to dig his nails into his own palms, biting his lip to hold back a flurry of words.[4]

“ _ Holy _ .” The word is barely a breath against his skin, but from the mouth of a demon, spoken like  _ that _ \--

“Crowley…” Aziraphale bent down and pressed his lips to the top of his head.

“You  _ are _ .” His forked tongue ghosted a circle around the sensitive skin of Aziraphale’s nipple, and his back arched as he moaned. “This form, your essence…” Crowley pulled away from him just enough to look up into his eyes. His serpentine eyes were practically glowing, eyebrows furrowed in earnest. “I don’t know what I did to deserve you.”

Aziraphale was about to inform him that he needn’t do anything at all, that he was more than enough as he was, but then he bit down sensually on his shoulder and he rather forgot what he meant to be saying.

“Getting to see you like this,” Crowley moaned softly against his skin, “I feel so…”

“Blessed?” Aziraphale guessed.

Within an instant, Crowley had used his grip on Aziraphale’s rear to flip him on his back so that Crowley was looming over him, one arm propping him up, his face centimeters from Aziraphale’s. “ _ Never _ .” His lips were pulled back as if to suggest a snarl, but Aziraphale merely smirked.

“Oh,” he remarked, playing coy. “I suppose that’s me, then. After all, I can’t imagine another reason I’d be able to do  _ this _ …or  _ this _ ...[5]”

“ _ Ah _ ,” Crowley remarked eloquently. 

“So you agree?”

“Blessings come from  _ God _ , Angel. I’m a  _ demon _ .” Behind the fog of lust in Crowley’s eyes, there was another emotion, although Aziraphale wouldn’t place it until later.[6]

“And still Her creation.” Aziraphale batted his eyelashes, hoping that wasn’t too much. “Not to mention a rather beautiful one, might I add--”

“Do shut up, Angel, I’m trying to practice idolatry via your body and your incessant niceness is making it rather difficult.” Crowley’s voice sounded exasperated, but he punctuated his words with a deep kiss, and so it lacked true bite. He made up for this by nipping at his earlobe on his way down Aziraphale’s body. 

“Oh, dear.” Aziraphale hummed softly. “I’d hate to make things  _ hard _ on you.”

Crowley, who was kissing Aziraphale’s stomach with great care, looked up with something approaching dawning horror. “Did you just. Make a dick joke.”

Aziraphale chuckled a bit. “Seemed as apt a time as any.”

Crowley stared at him for a moment, flustered._[_7_]_ “Do you make jokes with all of your...sexual partners?”

“Only the ones I’m truly comfortable with.” So, just Crowley. Aziraphale squirmed, his cock grinding against Crowley’s chest, prompting a groan from both men. “Now then, Crowley, if you truly want me to be quiet, you’d better give me reason to.”

Crowley damn near growled. “Oh, Angel. You’re absolutely delusional if you think you’re going to be able to keep quiet.”

“ _ Prove it _ then, Crowley,” Aziraphale whined. Crowley, never one to refuse his angel, dragged his serpentine tongue down from his navel to the base of his cock. He bucked his hips in response, but Crowley’s hands, quick as cobras, grabbed his hips and pressed them firmly down to the bed. The force was exhilarating, and Aziraphale groaned.

“I will.” Without another word, Crowley set about doing so. He planted a reverent kiss to the tip of Aziraphale’s fat, stout cock, and that was all the warning he gave before taking him to the base. 

“Oh good  _ Heavens _ , Crowley--”

“Mmph.” Crowley moaned around his cock, giving a particularly hard suck at that turn of phrase. It was all Aziraphale could do to lean his head back in ecstasy as his best friend laid with his head in his lap, sucking his dick. His fingers found themselves woven in Crowley’s hair, and an experimental tug produced a moan from the demon that was  _ rather _ promising.

Crowley’s technique was far from perfect, but he had an enthusiasm that made up for it in spades, not to  _ mention _ his tongue, and those two things would have made the experience enjoyable enough in and of themselves even if Aziraphale  _ hadn’t _ been in love with him.

Of course, he  _ was _ in love with him, so he was in absolute...well, not  _ Heaven _ , but in the state of bliss that humans imagined Heaven to bring with it.[8]

“Crowley, darling--” Aziraphale was interrupted by an involuntary moan as Crowley swirled his tongue around his tip.

“Yes, Angel?” It was Crowley’s turn to play innocent, eyebrows raised pleasantly as though Aziraphale’s thighs weren’t wrapped around his head.

“As--ah!--as much as I’m enjoying this, it’s--well, it’s been quite a while, and there’s something I’d rather like to do before I--well--”

“Something bothering you?” Crowley smirked, seemingly having found his confidence.[9]

“Yes,  _ you _ are, rather.”

“So, nothing out of the ordinary, then.” He snaked his tongue down his dick, past his balls, down to--

“Oh,  _ fuck _ , Crowley, I need--”

“Did you just  _ curse _ , Angel?”

“For Christ’s sake, Crowley, stop with the snark and  _ fuck _ me already!”

Crowley looked as if he might discorporate at that. His tongue flicked out nervously to moisten his lips, although they were still plenty sloppy from sucking cock. “You don’t want a bit more foreplay first?”

“What have the past six thousand years been?”

Crowley whimpered, and pressed his thumb against Aziraphale’s tight hole. “I don’t want to hurt you.”

“What are  _ miracles _ for, anyway,” Aziraphale said, huffily, “if not this?”

“Curing the ill or something?”

“Crowley, I swear to you that if I don’t feel your cock inside me this  _ instant _ I shall be  _ quite _ cross.”

And, well, what was Crowley supposed to say to that?

A quick miracle, and Aziraphale felt his ass go loose and moist quite suddenly. He sighed at the sensation, but he cried out at what came next.

“Oh,  _ Crowley _ \--” Aziraphale’s eyelids fluttered shut as Crowley pressed into him, going slowly at first, then, seeming to sense his desires, snapping up to the hilt.

“ _ Angel _ ,” Crowley said, in a voice that held untold volumes of sentiment.

Aziraphale opened his eyes to better enjoy the view, and what a view it was: Crowley was practically shaking, his eyes clenched shut and brow furrowed in pleasure. His body was slick with sweat, which normally wouldn’t have appealed to Aziraphale, but the way it made his skin shine, and his hair stick to his forehead in places… “You look so lovely, my dear.” His hand went up to caress his cheek, and yellow eyes opened to meet his own.

“Fucking h--oh, Angel, It’s like you were  _ made _ for me.” Crowley groaned as his angel clenched around him, and he was speaking about more than just the way his cock fit perfectly in his arse. Of course, in that way it was true, as Aziraphale had fashioned the Effort just for him.

“Perhaps I was,” Aziraphale mused, knowing full well what Crowley meant.

“ _ Aziraphale _ .”

“ _ Do _ be a good chap and fuck me properly, won’t you, darling?” Aziraphale’s voice was breathy, and the smile he gave only lasted a second before he returned to panting.

Crowley turned his face to kiss Aziraphale’s wrist where his hand was on his cheek. “Gladly, Angel.” And, with that, he did. At first, his thrusts were long, slow, tender--the demon was taking his time, luxuriating in the feeling of Aziraphale’s ass around his cock and the noises Aziraphale made. He quickly found a good rhythm, dick dragging across a spot Aziraphale knew would inevitably make him see stars--Crowley had always been good at making those, from his understanding. However, the angel quickly grew impatient.

“You’re not going to  _ break _ me, Crowley,” he complained.

Crowley groaned. “I don’t want to go too fast for you, Angel.”

“My dear boy, I hardly think you could anymore. Now, come on--I can take it harder than that.”

Following the old adage of  _ actions speak louder than words _ , Crowley obliged him, throwing his whole body into the effort of giving Aziraphale a good fuck. One arm went back to propping him up, and the other hoisted up the angel’s hips in order to give him a better angle at which to pound away. Tears pricked at the corners of Aziraphale’s eyes at the overwhelming pleasure of it all as Crowley nailed his prostate with each thrust.

“Oh, Crowley, my darling, you’re so good, so good to me--”

Crowley’s hips stuttered at that, and he let out a curse in an ancient language that wasn’t even meant to  _ have _ curses. Inventive lot, those demons. Or perhaps just Crowley.

“Angel, I’m--” He bit back a strangled gasp.

“ _ Crowley _ ...” 

“I’m close,” he confessed. He looked into Aziraphale’s eyes in a way that felt apologetic, but Aziraphale just smiled at him.

“It’s alright, my darling.” He moaned. “You’ve been so good for me, you’ve made me feel so good. Please, do come for me.”

“Oh _God,[10] _ _Aziraphale…_” And with that, Crowley came, his hips pulsing erratically as he spilled inside him. 

Aziraphale continued to moan, a bit softer now, as he enjoyed the sights and sounds of the demon known as Crowley fell apart. He really was quite exquisite, Aziraphale noted, and wondered, not for the first time, how many artists he’d inspired over the millenia.

When Crowley was finally done, he shivered, began to crawl back between Aziraphale’s legs. The angel frowned at this.

“Crowley, dear, you don’t have to--”

“It’s only fair, angel.” Crowley looked up at him, eyes shining with vulnerability, as he continued to descend.

“I mean, not  _ yet _ .” He opened his arms. “You’re shaking, love. Come here.”

Ever the obedient demon, Crowley crawled up and sank into his arms, burying his head under Aziraphale’s chin and making a soft noise that was somehow more desperate than any that had come out of him during sex.

“There, my dear.” He stroked his red waves, a bit frizzier than normal from their activities. “That was absolutely excellent. I loved doing that with you.” He felt a shiver go down Crowley’s body, even as the man gave him a look that would have seemed harsh if he hadn’t known him better.

“We’re not done yet, Angel.” His voice was firm, leaving no room for argument. “I’m going to take care of you.”

Aziraphale hummed. “I’d argue that you already are doing that, but regardless, won’t you let me take care of  _ you _ for a moment, first?”

Crowley’s gaze softened. “...S’pose so.”

Truthfully, Aziraphale was perfectly content to lay here like this for the rest of the night--as pleasurable as sex was, this vulnerability from Crowley somehow felt even more precious, and his erection would go away on its own, eventually. However, he doubted Crowley would be amenable to that idea after he came back to himself a bit more. In fact--

“Crowley, you know, I’ve only just realized that there’s something rather important I forgot to say.”

“I’ve gathered that this is a romantic date by now, Aziraphale.”

Aziraphale tutted. “Not that.” He pulled his head back a bit to look at Crowley better, and the demon did so as well. “I forgot to tell you how I  _ feel _ .”

Crowley gulped.  _ The Adam’s Apple. _ “Angel, you don’t have to.”

“No, I  _ want  _ to.” He kissed his hairline, then his temple, then his forehead. “I  _ love  _ you, Crowley.”

He saw Crowley’s eyes water slightly at that, and his heart melted further. He couldn’t stop himself from leaning in for a deep, sensual kiss. It wasn’t nearly as aggressive as the kisses they’d shared earlier, but there was a subtle intensity to it that left them both gasping despite the fact that breathing was an aesthetic choice for them rather than a necessity.

“I love you, too, Angel.” Crowley attempted a casual tone and failed miserably. “Though I’m sure you knew that already.”

Aziraphale kissed him again. “I did.” He gave him a smirk.[11] “But then, I’m sure you knew of my love already, too.” The demon grunted in the affirmative. “I still love to hear you say it.”

“Well, Angel,” Crowley said, grinning as he slid back down between the angel’s legs. “You’re in for quite a treat.”

And, indeed, he was.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1 This was, of course, because Crowley had altogether too many ideas of where he might like to begin showing reverence to Aziraphale’s body, and he was facing a bit of decision paralysis. [return to text]  
2 Typically, Crowley had the good sense to keep his head in the earthly plane, but in his love he’d foolishly peeked beyond the veil, and the sight of the Angel, Aziraphale, astride him, glowing with divine favor and earthly love, thousand eyes burning on Crowley, wings sheltering the two of them--it had all been rather a lot for Crowley to process. He was, after all, entirely out of practice in the art of receiving Heavenly Love. It had been at least six thousand years since he’d consciously done it. [return to text]  
3 This effort was terribly misguided, but Crowley would have appreciated the care, at least, if he’d known. [return to text]  
4 Whether these words would have consisted of confessions of love or pleas for More, Please was a matter of some contention. [return to text]  
5 At his first pause, the angel wrapped his hand around his demon’s cock, giving it a torturously slow stroke before releasing it. Then, he reached a little further down, cupping his balls and squeezing lightly. This proved to be a particularly effective technique, if Crowley’s facial expression was anything to go on. [return to text]  
6 The emotion was fear--specifically, that if Aziraphale continued to speak in this way, he would Fall, or be smote from the earth altogether. This fear was misguided, as Aziraphale was right; although Crowley’s Fall was his own doing, it was through My design that it resulted in them here, together. The details were immaterial. [return to text]  
7 Crowley wished he could claim that the terrible joke had been a turn-off, but in truth, he was so starved for any sort of desire from Aziraphale that even a sex joke was enough to make him throb. [return to text]  
8 Crowley was, perhaps, enjoying himself even more than Aziraphale was; although the angel wasn’t entirely cognisant of it, he made a near-constant stream of sighs and moans, as well as the scattered utterance of Crowley’s name in a way that felt entirely blasphemous. [return to text]  
9 Later, Aziraphale would tease him gently about the change in demeanor. “The duality of man,” Crowley would say with a shrug, ignoring the facts that, strictly speaking, he wasn’t a man, and that he’d only been able to pull himself together because doing so visibly flustered Aziraphale further. [return to text]  
10 Despite what one might expect, this was not, in fact, blasphemy: in this moment, for the first time since the Fall, Crowley’s words were sincere worship. [return to text]  
11 If pressed, Aziraphale would claim to have learned this particular smirk from the demon Crowley. However, if properly incentivized to be truthful, he might admit that, really, it was the other way around. [return to text]  



End file.
